


Tremor

by blandade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU- No ADHD, Concerned Derek, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holding Hands, M/M, Overdosing, Research, energy drinks, petulant Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blandade/pseuds/blandade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles decides he doesn't need sleep and gets too carried away with energy drinks. Derek thinks he's an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tremor

**Author's Note:**

> It's that time of the year again where my Uni decides we are machines or straight out of the freaking Matrix and throw so many exams at us that we don't have enough hours in the day to study for them all, so this little story was born (in the rare moment after one exam and before I managed to start studying for the next one). 
> 
> For the sake of this story, I'm pretending Stiles doesn't have ADHD (cause I know enegy drinks would effect him differently then). I know very little about it so I decided to go with something I know: energy drink overdose.  
> Wish I had a Derek when that happened to me. *sigh*
> 
> PS: oh how I hate that you can't do italic or bold here. How am I supposed to highlight stuff?! :(

It's was a Wednesday and Stiles hadn't slept more than 4 hours total for the past few nights. On top of his school work, the pack kept him busy with research. Derek seemed to have made him his personal expert on all things that went bump in the night. Over the summer break he had searched everything from ghouls to dragons to freaking hobbits, which existence still baffled him to be honest. Who would've thought that Tolkien actually knew what the hell he was writing about?

Now that summer was over, the freakishness had calmed down a bit. Stiles was 80% sure that most of the monsters went into hibernation when it got too cold. He made a note in his mind to research more on that later.

For now though, Derek was breathing down his neck like he thought it'd make him work any faster.

„My speed is limited to my lame human reflexes you know, glaring at the back of my head wont make me magically turn up an answer to your god damn questions, which I'm researching on a freaking school night anyway! I have a test tomorrow for god's sake, do you think I had time to study between when I got home and the time you climbed through my window and glared me into submission? Not submission...I didn't mean it like that, I just meant, oh fuck it you know what I meant...Right?“

Stiles knew he was rambling again.He was so wired from the amount of energy drinks he had consumed during the past 48 hours that he was surprised his brain hadn't overheated yet. He was feeling kind of sick, his vision swimming in and out of focus from time to time without his permission.

He squeezed his fists into tight knots for a moment to stop the little tremor that kept threatening to take over. He couldn't afford it slowing down his typing if he planned on getting any sleep tonight at all.

He heard Derek huff behind him, used to his weird behavior after spending more time in Stiles' proximity, and personal space, this past year than he was strictly comfortable with.

„You don't even care do you?“ Stiles grumbled, his fingers flying over his keyboard, frustrated with the amount of crap he had found compared to things that were actually useful, „That's what Stiles is here for, isn't it. Why else keep him around for that long. It's not like he's saved your sorry ass more times than the bundle of teenage hormones you call your pack, right? Fucking werewolves...“

He shook out the twitch in his knuckles and continued typing. Derek's hand shot out and stilled his fingers, the warmth of his skin jolting Stiles out of his complaining.  
„Are you okay?“ Derek grunted, like it took everything in him to be nice to someone for once.

„'m fine,“ Stiles answered petulantly, slapping away Derek's hand, no matter how much he enjoyed his fingers wrapped around his.

„I can tell when you're lying and you know it. I don't even have to listen to your heart for that, I've seen you lie countless times to your dad over the summer, you have a tell...speaking of your heart...it's not right.“

He mumbled the last part to himself. Stiles dared a glance up at his face and his eyebrows rose at the concerned expression on Derek's face. He had only seen that particular face in relation to his betas being in danger. Derek stepped swiftly forward, restraining his wrists with one hand to prevent Stiles from pushing him away, his other palm resting on his forehead, securing Stiles' head between his hand and his stomach.

„It's beating out of tune...and too fast. Your temperature is down...“ he kept mumbling to himself, not fazed one bit by Stiles' struggling.

„Drrrek! Let go! Stop it!“

„What did you take?“ Derek finally snapped out of it, directing a straight forward question at Stiles, who stilled at the inquiry, giving away his quilt.

„Nothing..?“ he sounded weak even to his own ears.

„What. Did. You. Take. Stiles? I need to know whether I have to gag you and take you to the hospital or if slapping some sense into you will do the trick,“ Derek growled, looking down at his face with his teeth bared.

„Don't put on your alpha-pants for me, dude! I won't budge like the others! You've tried it before!“ Stiles whined, struggling again.

„Stiles!“ Derek barked, letting go of his wrists in favor of looping his arm around his shoulders, keeping him from moving anything from the waist up. Stiles could feel Derek's hot breath against his ear and shuddered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. That wasn't fear, he hadn't been afraid of Derek since the pool-incident.

„Fine! Fine...I...I've been living on energy drinks for a few days now...I need them to keep functioning, since you seem to think humans don't need sleep!“ he started off weakly, but built himself up to an almost-shout.

„How many?“ Derek asked in a calm voice that was more terrifying that his growls had ever been.

„Not many...“ Stiles winced, knowing he was busted already.

„How many?“ Derek repeated, the hand on his forehead tightening.

„A few...three...ouch...five, today."

Derek finally let go of him, straightening up but staying close, his shirt tickling Stiles' hair, sighing in defeat.

„For someone so smart you're a freaking moron,“ he heard Derek grumble.

Stiles spun around in his chair, beaming up at him, „Was that a compliment? Naww, Derek, had I known you thought that, we could've resolved many arguments before they even happened!“

Derek let out a long suffering sigh, „Get to sleep.“

„What?“ Stiles gawked, flicking his eyes between Derek and his computer with the half-finished research.

„I said, get to sleep. I don't need one of my pack to drop dead from a heart attack at seventeen just because he didn't bother to tell anyone he needed a break,“ Derek said, folding his arms over his chest and scowling down at him like it was all his fault.

Wait.

Did he say one of his pack?

Stiles swallowed, casting his eyes on the floor. Derek had never acknowledged him as part of the team, not really. He had always assumed he was something like a pet, or an honorary member by association at best.

„But you need the research-“ he started, cut off by Derek pulling him up from his chair and walking him towards the bed, hand on the back of his neck.

„It can wait till tomorrow. Or the weekend as a matter of fact. You have school tomorrow and you need to sleep off that crap you put in your body before you get sick.“

„I already am,“ Stiles mumbled, feeling the ever present nausea pick up a pace at the acknowledgement.

Derek sighed, pushing Stiles down to sit on the bed.

„Lie down. You'll feel better once you get some sleep.“

„I don't think I can,“ Stiles whispered, looking down at his feet, his shoulders sagging. His hands had given up any pretense and were shaking visibly now.

Stiles thought he felt a ghost of a touch against his hair before Derek knelt before him, starting to pull off his shoes.

„You will,“ he said softly, throwing Stiles' socks over his shoulder, „lie down.“

Stiles did as he was asked, lifting his blanket before slipping beneath it, lying down on his side. Derek stood up, but made no move to leave. He just stood there, staring down at him. Stiles chanced a look back over his shoulder, lifting an eyebrow.  
„This is not gonna work, dude. You standing there like that? It reminds me of Paranormal Activity. There's no way I can close my eyes if you stay there.“

Derek frowned, his eyebrows pulling together, working out a solution. His face cleared a moment later as he started slipping out of his jacket.

„What...what are you doing?“ Stiles asked, suddenly alarmed.

„I'm doing as you asked, not staring,“ Derek answered, turning off the lights and throwing his jacket on the computer chair on his way around the bed. He laid down on top of the duvet next to Stiles, facing him in the dark.

„Better?“ he asked.

„...i don't know,“ Stiles admitted. This was weird, having Derek so close. And horizontal.

„Get some sleep,“ Derek whispered, the corner of his mouth twitching up. Almost a smile, Stiles thought.

Stiles tried, he really did, but when he closed his eyes, he felt nothing, not a trace of sleep. He opened them again, staring blankly at Derek's chest. He tried to push down the tremor in his hands, whimpering and crunching up his face when he failed. His heart decided it was the right time to tart a gallop in his chest, making him feel even worse.

Derek sighed and placed his hand over Stiles', black veins appearing under his skin, leeching away his discomfort. Derek furrowed his brow at whatever he felt, swallowing visibly.

„Don't ever do this to yourself again.“

„Okay...“ Stiles mumbled, his eyes finally growing heavy, his muscles relaxing. He felt like he could sleep now, „thank you...“

He felt Derek's grip on his hand tighten for a moment before it disappeared altogether. Stiles' eyes flew open and he grabbed Derek's wrist before he could register what he was doing. Derek was sitting up, ready to leave, surprise in his eyes.

„Don't leave...please,“ Stiles whispered, not daring to say it any louder. There was a beat of silence in the room as he waited for Derek's reaction. He jerked his hand back as Derek moved to stand, swallowing back the bitterness. Of course he was gonna leave. He had better things to do that comfort needy teenagers who couldn't sleep alone.

Derek lifted the corner of the blanket and slipped under it, resuming his previous position, making Stiles gape at him, thankful for the darkness concealing the blush that had risen on his freckled cheeks.

Derek shifted, settling down more comfortably, his hand falling on the sheets next to Stiles'.

Stiles waited a beat before holding his breath and grabbing back the hand. He laced their fingers together and closed his eyes, sighing. He was asleep within minutes, missing the soft smile that spread over Derek's lips for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first TW fic ever so be gentle :P


End file.
